


come on, baby, calm me down (you're the only one who knows how)

by stefonzolesky



Series: and yes, we can keep living like this [1]
Category: Wet Hot American Summer (2001), Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dorks in Love, M/M, Proposals, Trans Male Character, i stayed up all night writing this, mckinley is a national lampoon dork, mckinley is trans because i said so, one sided victor/neil if you really squint, pry my headcanons from my cold dead hands, watch me get ahead of myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:11:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stefonzolesky/pseuds/stefonzolesky
Summary: McKinley is not a nervous person.





	come on, baby, calm me down (you're the only one who knows how)

**Author's Note:**

> i made a playlist  
> (https://8tracks.com/gobbeecompany/and-yes-we-can-keep-living-like-this-mcbenley)  
> it has 2 songs from the soundtrack so sue me but it goes along with this fic so have fun!

McKinley is **not** a nervous person. He doesn’t get nervous. He’s quickly coming up on seventeen and doesn’t blink twice when people go through his stuff because he doesn’t have much to hide at all. Nothing besides his fake dick, which Greg, Beth, Mitch, and his parents all already know about, and the magazine with a full spread of Freddie Mercury that he hides under his pillow, which Gary found half an hour before the musical and McKinley had to lie his way out of.

 **Ben** makes McKinley nervous. Ben makes McKinley so nervous that his palms sweat, and his palms haven’t sweat this much since he was thirteen-and-a-half and divulging secrets to his parents that they didn’t -- and couldn’t -- fully understand. McKinley hasn’t been this nervous in years, and he’s sure that Ben can tell that his palms are sweating seeing as they’re holding hands and **fuck** _,_ he hopes that Ben doesn’t think he’s gross.

“Sorry, my hands are sweaty,” Ben apologizes as he drops McKinley’s hand, wiping his palms on his sweater. They stop outside the Round House and Ben reaches up to pull his ski mask down over his face.

McKinley feels a fraction of the tension leave his shoulders -- Ben is nervous too. McKinley has a very specific image that he likes to portray of himself, so instead of saying, “My hands are sweaty too” and laughing like he should, he decides to be kind of a dick and say, “Don’t sweat it.”

Ben giggles at that, though, and that giggle makes McKinley feel a little less bad about being kind of a dick to this guy he really likes.

Ben opens the door. “After you.”

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a shameful person, not in any regard. He’s the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, and doesn’t think before he speaks, and apparently he’s the kind of guy who falls asleep against the wall of the Round House bathroom with a beer in one hand and the other snaked around Ben’s waist.

He never thought of himself as one of those cheesy guys who wakes up and then lets his boyfriend -- **boyfriend?** \-- sleep for a while just to watch him sleep, but Firewood brings out the best in everyone.

His fingers curl around his beer again and he brings it to his lips as slowly as he can. Ben wakes up with a snort and stretches like a cat.

McKinley knows that he should probably think before he speaks, but he doesn’t, ever, and it lands him in sticky situations like this one, where Ben is barely awake and he finds himself saying -- “Good morning, are you my boyfriend now?”

Ben blinks and brings up a hand to rub his eyes. He yawns, clearly still half asleep. “Hm? Yeah.”

McKinley smiles like he’s never smiled before, and that’s stupid because it’s tarnishing the badass and carefree image he’s built for himself over the last six years at Camp Firewood, but fuck it, right? **Right?**

Ben shifts, turning to run his thumb along a mark on McKinley’s shirt.

“I drooled on you.” He frowns. “Sorry.”

McKinley tenses up as Ben thumbs over the bandages beneath his shirt and he says, “It’s fine,” with a breath. Ben’s hand doesn’t leave his chest.

He coughs and it shakes his frame. “So, uh, how did you sleep?”

Ben shrugs. “Good enough. My back hurts.”

Silence.

Ben’s tongue darts out to wet his lip. “You, like, really, **actually** want to be my boyfriend?”

McKinley, as to not appear over-eager, decidedly says, “I guess so.”

Ben frowns, his eyes dart around the bathroom, and his mouth forms an ‘oh.’

“I mean,” McKinley corrects. “I want to be your boyfriend, of course I want to be your boyfriend. Unless you don’t want to be my boyfriend, in which case I don’t wanna be your boyfriend either, why would I--”

“McKinley,” Ben interrupts. He laughs and tugs on the collar of McKinley’s shirt to pull himself up tiredly, just enough to place a kiss on the corner of McKinley’s mouth. “Don’t overthink it.”

“Usually I’m the one saying that,” McKinley jokes. “Do you think we should go to breakfast?”

Ben thinks on it for a second and then says, “Probably.” He pushes himself up and extends a hand for McKinley to grab. McKinley winces when he pulls himself up with Ben’s arm.

“I have to stop by my bunk first, alright?” McKinley’s hand lingers against Ben’s upper arm for a second before he drops it to his side. “I’ll meet you there.”

Ben smiles a dorky smile. “Okay.” His eyes flit over McKinley. “Yeah. Okay.”

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a discreet person. He’s the kind of guy who holds hands over the table and is into sloppy makeout sessions like Andy and Katie have against the sides of doorways and at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He’ll settle, though, he decides when he sees Ben sitting across from JJ and Gary, staring down his plate.

How thoughtful of Ben, McKinley thinks, to know that McKinley would want to sit with his friends, though part of the fact that Ben is sitting there could be due to the absence of Susie. McKinley tries not to dwell on it.

He manages through line and doesn’t flinch when Gene slams down a plate of apples on the counter when he walks past. The noise causes Ben to look up, to find the source of the noise in half a second, and break into a puppy-like grin on sight of McKinley.

He waves. McKinley waves back. He picks up his tray and sits down next to Ben.

“McKinley!” JJ’s head snaps up. “We need you to settle an argument.”

Ben looks at McKinley with pleading eyes. McKinley laughs and says, “Alright, shoot.”

Gary throws his head back with a groan when JJ starts to ask, “Is it possible for a guy to get a girl off without touching her vagina?”

“Yes,” McKinley says without thinking. Gary blinks. McKinley feels Ben’s hand inching towards where his own is resting on the bench between them. “Yes, it’s possible, but if a girl tells you that’s what happened, she’s probably lying because she doesn’t like you.”

Gary laughs. “I fuckin’ told you that’s not what happened to you!”

Ben glances over at McKinley and asks the question McKinley was dreading: “How do you know that?”

McKinley tenses up. Ben’s fingers curl around his pinky. “Can we talk about something else?”

Ben looks startled, but he drops the subject. McKinley scratches the side of his nose and resigns himself back to toying with Ben’s fingers under the table and watching JJ and Gary bicker like an old married couple.

Not yet, he decides. He’s not going to tell them yet.

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a dulcet person. Or, at least, he doesn’t consider himself to be a dulcet person. He’s debonair at his best, but nothing sweet like Ben.

Ben tastes like freezer pops and his hands on McKinley’s waist are seraphic. The feel of Ben’s faint, barely kissed lips on his own seems like an indicator of summer’s beginning, and of how the next eight weeks are going to go.

“You’re sure you’ve never done this before?” He asks, forehead against Ben’s. Ben swallows hard and shakes his head

They’re in the back of the theater while Susie is teaching a class -- Ben is supposed to be out there helping her, but McKinley came to watch and Ben couldn’t stop giggling at him making stupid faces behind the campers’ heads, so Susie asked them both to step backstage.

“Where did you get the blue raspberry popsicle?” McKinley asks.

Ben laughs into his mouth. “I snuck into the kitchen while Gene was out and grabbed one. I could get you one, if you wanted.”

“Rebel, rebel,” McKinley grins. He tugs Ben down by his collar and kisses him again. “That’s a side of you I didn’t know existed.”

As theater is dismissed, Ben and McKinley’s latest kiss is broken by Susie storming backstage with her hands on her hips.

“I am **appalled!”** She says, voice tough as nails. She glances from Ben to McKinley back to Ben. “Ben, I really thought you were better than this! These kids are **hopeless!** They’re **amateurs!** And I can’t do this on my own, okay? Go. Shoo.”

Ben scampers out of the theater like a kicked dog.

“You can’t treat him like that,” McKinley pipes up, but he knows that it’s hopeless the second Susie’s dagger eyes point in his direction. He falters.

 **“You.”** She scowls. Her nose scrunches up. “You think you can come into **my** theater and distract **my** actors, and **my** producer?”

“I do make the costumes,” McKinley says. “If you kick me out, you won’t have anyone to make costumes.”

Susie makes a ‘hmph’ noise and manages to say, “Whatever,” and as McKinley is on his way out, “Have fun fucking my ex-boyfriend.”

McKinley laughs and glances over his shoulder at her.

“Oh, Susie.” He lets a cat-like grin spread across his face. “Was he ever really your boyfriend?”

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a dainty person. He’s made sure of that, and judging by his ratty converse and the grass stains on pretty much every piece of clothing he brought with him by the second week of camp, he’s done a pretty good job of it.

Ben calls him a “pretty boy,” and he’d usually object, but he likes hearing it out of Ben’s mouth, and he likes saying it back against Ben’s neck.

They found the pretty much abandoned sports shed by their third day as a couple, and it’s been four days of making out and talking and making out by the time Ben tries to slip his hands up McKinley’s shirt.

McKinley draws back, and in a moment of panic says, “What’s that, Greg? Did you need me?” because he really wants Greg to need him right now because he really needs out of this situation **right now.**

Ben frowns. “McKinley.” He sighs. “I know that Greg isn’t talking to you, because Greg died last week.”

McKinley swears under his breath.

“Right,” He says. “I forgot about that. Listen, Ben, baby--”

“-- If you’re uncomfortable,” Ben interrupts. He shuts his eyes. “Just tell me what you’re uncomfortable with, and I won’t do it. I’m new to all of this, you know that.”

McKinley sighs, He draws further away from Ben and crosses his arms over his chest protectively.

“I wouldn't care,” He admits. “I really wouldn’t. I’ve slept with guys before, I’ve done all of that shit--” He pauses, because Ben looks uncomfortable, but powers through. “-- but I **really** like you, Ben.”

Ben manages a weak smile. McKinley laughs sadly.

“I like you, like, a lot.” He looks up at Ben for the first time since tearing away from him. “So I think we need to keep this clothes on. Keep outside of the clothes. Don’t… Sorry. Just for a little bit, until I’m more comfortable. I don’t wanna fuck this up.”

“I don’t wanna fuck this up either,” Ben promises. “I swear. I didn’t know you didn’t want me to have my hands inside your shirt. If I had known, I wouldn’t have done it.”

He takes a hesitant step forward. McKinley sucks in a breath as Ben’s hands find their way to his waist again.

“I promise,” He says. McKinley’s hands make their way to his collar.

“Okay.” He nods. “I’m sorry.”

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a considerate person. He strives to be one, but overall, he’s kind of a self-centered dick. Except for when it comes to Ben. He finds himself caring about the way Ben feels more than the way anyone else feels, even himself.

“I like you,” He tells Ben. They’re laying side by side in the grass, past lights out. It’s cliché as fuck, but McKinley doesn’t really mind. Nobody’s there to see him being cheesy and vulnerable besides Ben.

Ben turns his head to face McKinley, a stupid smile on his face. “I like you too. I **really** like you.”

McKinley laughs. His hand fumbles to reach Ben’s. “I **really** like you too.”

There’s a beat. Ben sniffs as McKinley turns to face him. They’re nose to nose.

“I love you,” Ben tells him.

McKinley touches his nose to Ben’s. “I love you too.”

Pause. He squeezes Ben’s hand. “We should go in. I need to go back to my bunk.”

“Let me come back with you.”

Ben offers up a crooked, innocent smile.

It’s a well known fact around camp that McKinley’s parents paid Mitch off to give him a separate cabin, for privacy reasons, for health reasons, to make sure that he didn’t feel pressured to keep bandages wrapped around his chest overnight because other boys are around. Most people just think it’s because he comes from a fancy family, from like, New York, or something, when actuality, McKinley spends time between his mom’s mediocre apartment in Reno and his dad’s shitty house in Myrtle Beach.

It seems like a bad idea, but McKinley is too caught up in the moment, and he loves the way Ben pressed up against his body, so he agrees.

 

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest the entire hushed walk back to his cabin, and once the door shuts behind them, McKinley puts his hands on Ben’s waist and makes sure he has his boyfriend’s full attention.

“Listen, Ben,” He says. “I don’t want to hurt myself more than I already have.”

Ben frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” McKinley scrunches up his nose. He wants to put off this confession for as long as possible. “I’m gay.”

“I know,” Ben says. “I’m your boyfriend.”

“I mean…” McKinley sucks in a breath through his teeth. “I’m a guy. I’m a gay guy.”

“I know,” Ben promises, looking concerned. “Me too.”

“I mean…” McKinley sighs, finally giving up. “Have you ever seen a pair of tits?”

Ben looks taken aback.

“What?” He sounds defensive. “No.”

McKinley pinches the bridge of his nose. For some reason, this conversation was a lot easier to have when it was him making up dialogue between him and his boyfriend while he’s in the shower. Now that it’s actually happening, it’s so much harder, not to mention Ben isn’t following the script that McKinley wrote for him in his head.

“Listen,” He says. “Ben. This is really hard for me, but if you’re going to be staying the night in here, I kind of have to get it over with. No matter what you see tonight, know this about me. I--”

“McKinley,” Ben interrupts. “I can just leave, if you don’t want to tell me right now. It’s getting late, we should be going to bed.”

“Right.” McKinley presses his lips into a thin line. “No, stay. It’s fine. I’ll just tell you in the morning.”

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a stupid person. But, on occasion, love can make a man stupid. Ben makes McKinley stupid, Ben makes him do stupid things that hurt because he really doesn’t want to lose what they have and that thought keeps McKinley up at night.

The morning comes all too soon.

“You’re awake,” McKinley notices when Ben stretches against him. They fell asleep in McKinley’s shabby camp bed, pressed up against one another. Ben mumbles something incoherent and buries his face in McKinley’s neck. McKinley wraps an arm around Ben and decides to savor this moment.

Until it starts to hurt.

 

“Ben, babe,” McKinley mumbles. “Baby, you gotta get up. I need to change.”

Ben shifts, rolls over, and says, “Morning to you too.”

McKinley manages a laugh and turns his back on the bed, rifling through his closet for a hoodie. He knows fully well that it’s too hot for a hoodie, but he also knows that his mom would kill him if he was binding for more than twenty-four hours straight, so a hoodie and hiding in his bunk will have to do.

Unfortunately, he comes up short for one, because he was an idiot and didn’t pack any fucking hoodies.

“I’m not going to breakfast today,” He tells Ben. He can feel Ben frowning as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“Why?” Ben asks. “And what are all those bandages on your chest? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” McKinley promises. “I don’t want to deal with people today. If you see Beth, can you tell her to stop by here?”

“Yeah.” Ben’s feet hit the ground behind him, and McKinley starts to tense up as he unwraps the bandages from his chest, not bothering to go into the bathroom. “You remember last night, when you told me that we could talk in the morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, well, uh. It’s the morning.”

“Yeah.” The last of the bandages fall to the ground. McKinley yanks a shirt out of his closet and quickly pulls it over his head, just before he turns to face Ben.

Ben’s eyes wander to McKinley’s chest. His cheeks go red. “Oh.”

“Don’t--” McKinley shuts his eyes, trying to stay calm. “Don’t make a thing of it, alright?”

“You’re a girl?” Ben asks.

“No,” McKinley says. Ben lets out a relieved breath. “Don’t worry, Ben, you’re still just as gay as you were before, and so am I. Okay?”

Ben hesitates.

“Okay,” He says decidedly. “That’s fine. You sure you don’t wanna come to breakfast?”

“I don’t think it’s a great idea,” McKinley admits. “You should ask Susie if you can get the day off from your activities. Tell her I’m sick and come hang out in here with me, until I can, uh, until I can leave again.”

Ben smiles a little. “Lying to Susie just so I can spend time with you is one of my favorite things to do.”

McKinley laughs. He takes a step towards Ben and stands on his toes a little to wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and kiss him.

“I can’t believe I was scared to tell you,” He says against Ben’s lips. “I should have known you’re too much of a sweet dork to break up with me over this.”

Ben frowns. “You thought I’d break up with you over this?”

McKinley shrugs and falls back on his heels. He offers up a smile.

“Go get breakfast,” He tells Ben. “Bring me back an orange and one of those freezer pops. And one of your sweaters?”

Ben grins. “You’re gonna look great in my sweater.” He giggles and kisses McKinley’s forehead before turning on his heel and leaving McKinley’s bunk.

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a sappy person. That being said, he wants to wear Ben’s sweaters and only Ben’s sweaters forever and ever and ever because they’re warm and they smell like Ben and he’s totally fucking in love even though they’ve only been dating for two weeks.

Ben’s tongue is stained blue and McKinley’s been sucking on a cherry freezer pop so he makes a shitty joke about kissing to make purple and they make out in McKinley’s bed for hours on end.

“You’re like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ben admits shyly with red cheeks.

McKinley can’t help but laugh. “Your life must not have been very great before this, then.”

Ben’s eyebrows furrow, like he has to think about it, and then he says, “It wasn’t.”

McKinley falters. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Ben shakes his head. “I mean, it isn’t, but you don’t need to be sorry, because you’re making everything better.” He smiles, a crooked and genuine smile.

McKinley sucks in a breath. “Do you mind if I…” He tugs at the bottom of Ben’s shirt and Ben nods, obliging as McKinley slips Ben’s shirt off and then shakily pulls his own over his head. He rubs Ben’s cheek with his thumb, and when it’s clear that Ben is trying to look anywhere but at his chest, he says, “It’s okay to stare.”

“I don’t want to,” Ben says. “That’s not what you’re supposed to look like, you said. I don’t want to stare at something that isn’t you.”

McKinley laughs, and he throws his head back when he laughs, and he hasn’t been this happy in **so long.**

“Come here.” He wraps his arms around Ben’s neck and pulls him in for another kiss.

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** an excitable person. Sure, he **does** get excited from time to time but he’s rarely counting down days. Except, now he’s totally counting down days, because his mom called and said she was picking him up to go in for surgery and for some reason, instead of thanking her immediately, the first thing McKinley did was ask if Ben could come too.

He runs across camp to Ben’s bunk and knocks on the door like it’s life or death.

“Ben,” He says, speaking like his voice is going to give out any minute. “Ben, Ben, BenBenBen **BenBenBenB--”**

“McKinley!” Victor answers the door. “My man, what is **up?”**

“Is Ben in?” McKinley asks. It’s taking all of his energy to not bounce in place. “I need to talk to Ben.”

Victor laughs. “Sheesh, I didn’t even know you two were friends. He’s in the bathroom.”

“Okay, well, uh…” McKinley looks over Victor’s shoulder. “Tell him to meet me, uh, at the theater. I have to talk to him and Susie about, uh… About… Costumes! Costumes, I need to talk to them about costumes.”

Victor’s eyebrows furrow. “Is Susie doing another musical?”

McKinley laughs, panicked. “Maybe! I don’t know. Just-- Just tell Ben, alright?” And before Victor can say “No,” He’s racing over to the theater.

 

Susie is sitting on the stage, thumbing through scripts. McKinley takes a seat next to her.

“Are you feeling better?” She asks, without looking up.

“Hm?” McKinley asks.

“Ben said you were sick.”

“Oh.” McKinley frowns. “Right. Yeah. Totally feeling better.” His head snaps up when Ben walks through the door. “Ben! Thank **fuck** you’re here.”

“You wanted to talk to me about… costumes?” Ben asks, and he and McKinley walk in the same way at the same pace and meet in the middle of the room, but before Ben can say anything else, McKinley grabs him by the collar and pulls him into a kiss.

Susie gags behind them.

“Do you wanna leave camp with me in two weeks?” McKinley asks, eyes wide and hopeful. “I already talked to Beth **and** my mom, just say the word. I don’t wanna go in for surgery without you there.”

“Surgery,” Ben says with no tone in his voice. “You’re--”

“-- Susie’s still here,” McKinley quietly reminds him. “But if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, and if you’re thinking what I’m saying is what I’m saying, then **yes.”**

Ben breaks into a grin and pulls McKinley into another kiss, hands on McKinley’s waist.

A cough sounds out from behind Ben’s back.

“Costumes?” Victor says. Ben pulls away and spins on his heel to face Victor.

McKinley laughs awkwardly. “Hey, Vic.” He smiles shyly. “What’s up?”

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a skittish person. He’s unequivocal and confident and loud about what he wants, what he needs, what he’s thinking.

He becomes skittish in weeks passing. He and Ben spend the first week paying Victor off in booze to not blab to JJ and Gary about how they’re dating, and McKinley spends the second week mostly locked in his bunk and overthinking every decision he’s made that has gotten him to this point.

“I have to tell Beth I’ll be in my bunk for a week,” McKinley is in the midst of rambling to Ben in a fit of panic. “I have to be in my bunk for a week, or a week and a half, I can’t do things, I’ll be useless as a counsellor, I should postpone--”

“-- McKinley,” Ben interrupts with a laugh. “McKinley, you want this, right?”

McKinley pauses. “Of course I want this.”

Ben cups McKinley’s face in his hand, runs his thumb over McKinley’s cheek. “Don’t overthink it.”

McKinley lets out a relieved breath.

“You’re right,” He decides with a shaky laugh. “I’m sorry I’m so worked up over this. I’m being such a dillweed, I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.”

“I’m happy for you,” Ben tells McKinley with a hand rubbing his upper arm for reassurance. “Be happy for yourself, too.”

There’s a knock on the door, and McKinley jumps up to get it.

“Mom!” He says, quickly pulling her into a hug.

She laughs, hugging him back, and then says, “Are you ready to go? Where’s your friend?”

“He’s right back there, uh, hey, Ben!” McKinley shouts over his shoulder. He steps aside for his mom to come in. “Ben, this is my mom. Mom, this is my boyfriend, Ben. I’m gonna go get these fucking bandages off my chest, and then we can go.” He presses a chaste kiss to Ben’s lips and darts into the bathroom.

“Language,” McKinley’s mom pipes up. “It’s nice to meet you, Ben.”

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** an anxious person. Hospitals make him anxious, because they're too clean, too bright, too white. He can hear Ben turn a page in a magazine next to him but he can't look because his body is **not** under his own control right now. He's frozen.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks him, because Ben has a knack for sensing these things. McKinley manages a shake of his head. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” McKinley says quietly. “It’s fine. You being here is enough.”

Ben reaches for McKinley’s hand where it’s dangling off of the bed. “Meds kicking in yet?”

“Give it a second.”

Ben laughs. “Alright.”

McKinley’s head is going fuzzier by the second. His fingers curl around Ben’s hand and he laughs. “Thanks for being here,” He says, or he thinks he’s saying, but he can’t really feel his tongue and is sure he’s already starting to slur. “You’re, like, the best person. Ever. You’re the bomb. Da bomb.” He laughs again, more of a giggle. “I can’t wait to have sex with you.”

Ben gives a startled laugh. “I love you,” He says, or McKinley thinks he’s saying. His eyes are closing. Ben’s still holding his hand.

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a tired person. But, apparently, surgery can make a guy tired. He sleeps with his head in Ben’s lap the entire drive back to Firewood, and wakes up to Ben toying with his hair from the backseat of the car, parked right behind his bunk.

“I told your mom that you probably wouldn’t want people to see us walking in together, especially not after you’ve just had surgery.” Ben’s voice is quiet. McKinley makes a soft, tired noise and pushes himself so he’s sitting. He winces. “She went to go tell Beth that you’ll be basically bedridden for the next week.”

McKinley stifles a yawn and musters up a sleepy smile.

“You’re, like, the best boyfriend. They broke the mold when they made you. Et cetera, et cetera, I’m too tired to compliment you more right now.”

Ben laughs and slips out of the car, and he closes the door behind McKinley once he’s stepped out. McKinley grabs Ben’s hand quickly and gives it a squeeze. “You should go help Susie. I can get settled in again on my own. I’m not as fragile as I may seem.”

Ben frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Promise,” McKinley says. He stands on his toes to give Ben a chaste kiss. “She’s probably drowning without you there to help her out.”

“You overstate her need for me.” Ben laughs. “I’ll bring you dinner, alright?”

“Like I said,” McKinley muses, “they broke the mold.”

Ben walks backwards from behind the bunk, eyes trained on McKinley’s face with his trademark dorky grin that McKinley loves so much. He breathes out a sigh, shoulders relaxing, and matches Ben’s smile.

Ben makes good on his promise to bring McKinley dinner. Beth, Coop, Victor, and Susie, all fully aware of McKinley and Ben’s relationship, cover for him when he sneaks out of the dining hall to eat with McKinley at every meal for the week that he’s stuck in there. And they really allow themselves to be teenagers, for the week. Away from the responsibilities that Beth puts on them as counsellors, they sit on the floor and play Monopoly, and McKinley pelts Ben with the pieces when he loses.

“Sore loser,” Ben grumbles, dodging another flying Monopoly house. He tries to sneak forward, dodging piece after piece, to press an innocuous kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. McKinley kisses back, and he presses himself against Ben and leans forward and Ben leans back over the Monopoly dollars scattered across the floor, shifting so he can lay down with McKinley laying over him, still kissing him, hands on either side of his head.

“I love you,” McKinley mumbles against his lips between chaste and breathless kisses. “Ben, I love you so much.”

Ben giggles into McKinley’s mouth. “I love you too,” He says. “So much.”

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a cautious person. He honestly doesn’t give a fuck whether or not people find out about him and Ben at this point. Except for Gary and JJ, but that’s a whole different can of worms, because they have homophobic tendencies with the way they talk. Either way, he doesn’t try to hide it from them actively, he just doesn’t say anything, and if they figure it out… He’ll burn that bridge when he gets to it.

“Hey, Gary?” He says quietly, while he’s waiting in line for breakfast. For some reason, Gary and JJ are oblivious enough and caught up in their own constant bickering to have not noticed the week that McKinley was missing from the dining hall.

“Hm?” Gary pushes forward a plate of gross-looking scrambled eggs.

“Can I talk to you after breakfast?”

McKinley frowns. Gary studies his face for half a second.

“Yeah,” He finally decides. “I’ll meet you at your cabin. Any excuse to go there, you rich motherfucker.”

McKinley laughs awkwardly. “It’s not that secret of a deal, you know,” He says. “But whatever floats your boat.”

 

Gary makes good on the promise to meet McKinley in his bunk, and McKinley is shuffling a deck of Uno cards absently on the end of the bed when Gary walks in.

McKinley’s head snaps up. “Oh, good. You’re here.”

“Yeah,” Gary says. He moves to take a seat next to McKinley on the bed. “What did you need?”

McKinley laughs awkwardly, suddenly nervous and overthinking his opportunity to breach the topic he had intended on asking Gary questions about. “What did I need? Nothing, nothing, I just… I’ve been sick, so I haven’t been out of my bunk for, like, a week--” Gary makes an “ohhhh” noise, because he definitely just realized McKinley had been gone. “-- and we haven’t hung out.”

“Oh,” Gary says. “Gay.”

A silence falls over them. McKinley holds up the deck of cards. “Wanna play Uno?”

Halfway through a game of Uno, and before Gary starts to hate him for winning, McKinley decides to get over himself and ask, “Hypothetically, could you ever see yourself getting married?”

Gary shrugs. “I dunno.” He puts a card down. “Draw four. Is she hot?”

McKinley begrudgingly draws four cards. “Yes. She’s smokin’ hot. Do you marry her?”

“If I like her,” Gary says. “And if she puts out.”

McKinley puts down a card. At this point, though, he doesn’t really care if he wins.

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a pensive person. He doesn’t overthink, and he doesn’t contemplate ideas before he goes and does the thing that he’s set out to do.

Ben is a planner. Ben likes to know when things are happening and where they’re happening and why they’re happening and every single detail about it. McKinley finds Ben’s incisive planning endearing.

They’re laying back in the field by the sports shed again, and it’s late at night, and if someone had told McKinley five weeks earlier that he’d end up finding the guy he wants to spend the rest of his life with on the first day of camp he’d have laughed in their face.

He toys with Ben’s fingers. “You ever wear jewelry?”

Ben hums from his place, crammed comfortably in the crook of McKinley’s arm. He draws his hand back, studies it for a second like he needs to think about it.

“I used to wear bracelets. In middle school.” He laughs and slides down so his head is in McKinley’s lap. “Haven’t really thought about it. Why?”

“Dunno,” McKinley lies. “You’ve always seemed like kind of a ring guy, though.”

Ben makes a soft ‘huh’ noise and says, “Maybe you’re right.”

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a bad-tempered person. It typically takes a lot to push him over his limits, which is attribute to that cool, collected, laid-back personality that he’s fabricated for himself throughout his years at camp.

It takes a lot to make him raise his voice. Apparently, though, the definition of “a lot” is “Beth not letting him leave camp to go ring shopping while there’s still three weeks left A.K.A. enough time to plan an actual nice wedding and also enough time for McKinley to figure out how to get over Ben if he decides to turn down the proposal, which he better fucking not, and **come on** Beth **seriously** this ring will affect **literally** the rest of his life.”

Beth puts her head in her hand and gives a hard sigh.

“McKinley,” She says, moving to pinch the bridge of her nose. “You’ve already left camp too many times this year.”

“Are you homophobic?” McKinley fires at her. “Is that what this is? Do you just not want me and Ben to get married? Because if that’s what it is, just say it.”

“Of course not!” Beth splutters. She glances at the clock. “I’ll give you two hours. Take Susie with you.”

 **“Susie?”** McKinley scoffs. “Fuck, Beth, might as well just send me with one of those rabid dogs that ended up at camp last year.”

“Take Susie,” Beth reiterates, “or don’t go.”

McKinley rolls his eyes. He glances at Beth, like he expects her to change her mind, but she just stares him down so he grumbles, “Fine,” and storms out of her office.

 

Susie is more than willing to come along, but it’s been five weeks and she and McKinley still haven’t talked out that whole ‘McKinley-stealing-Ben-from-her’ thing.

She crosses her arms on the drive and demands that he go slower. They hit a stoplight.

“You know, you really don’t have to do this,” He says, glancing at her quickly before pulling his eyes back on the road. “I’ll pull over somewhere, and we can hash this out, and you can stop making passive aggressive comments at me on the day that I’m going ring shopping. To buy a ring for **your** best friend. Who is, in fact, in love with me. Just to clear that up.”

Susie scoffs, and then she falters and says, “I’m sorry. I just wasted so much time on Ben, you know? I really liked him, and it sucked that we never went anywhere. He really does love you.”

A pang of guilt hits McKinley’s gut. He shakes his head.

“No, I’m sorry.” His grip tightens on the wheel. “I’ve never really tried to see it from your side.”

Susie laughs sadly next to him. “Here. Ben has been my best friend for years, we carpool to camp. Every time we pass here this ring shop coming up on the left, he mentions something about maybe getting married one day. He never said it in regard to me, though, he just sort of… I don’t know. I should have known he was gay, honestly.”

McKinley stifles a laugh and pulls into the parking lot.

“Thanks, Susie,” He tells her, parking just outside of the ring shop. “You’re a lifesaver.”

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a lethargic person. He’s always been energetic, his whole life. He tries his best to go on runs every morning and he participates in every single sport that Firewood offers.

Ben has been spending nights with him, and Ben has a tendency to make him lethargic in the mornings. He’s becoming sappier and sappier, and he wants to sleep in late with his boyfriend and fall asleep early and make out in bed and--

“McKinley,” Ben says. McKinley blinks. “You good?”

“Yeah.” McKinley laughs awkwardly. “Sorry, zoned out.”

“I thought we could go out on the river with Victor and Neil today,” Ben suggests. “Since neither of us have anything to do.”

McKinley presses a chaste kiss to Ben’s lips. “Sounds like a great plan.” He pauses. “Neil knows we’re together, right? It’d be weird if just Victor knew.”

“I think Neil knows,” Ben says, though he sounds unsure. “Either way. There’s nothing stopping him from finding out but us.”

 

Victor drives them up to the river in the van, and he and Neil bicker about directions while Ben sits pressed up as close to McKinley as humanly possible in the direct backseat.

“We should watch a movie, when we get back,” McKinley suggests quietly, so just Ben can hear. “I’ve got that TV and VCR hidden in my closet, and I have a copy of Animal House. It’s my favorite movie.”

Ben grins and sits up a little straighter to look at McKinley. “Really? It’s mine, too.”

McKinley and lamely pumps his fist.

 

Once they reach the river, Victor mumbles something about “stealing him for a sec” to Ben and drags McKinley a few feet ahead of him and Neil. McKinley and Ben both make a noise in protest, but it’s not long before Ben and Neil are making casual conversation behind them.

“Wasn’t Ben straight earlier this summer?” Victor asks innocently. He looks like he’s tearing himself apart.

“He was never straight,” McKinley promises. “Why?”

“I just thought, you know, if Ben was straight. If you could convert a straight guy--” Victor stops short, glances at Neil, and then says, “You know what? Nevermind.”

“Vic, what is it?” McKinley asks. “You can always come to me with gay questions.”

Victor seems to contemplate that for a second.

“Alright,” He decides. “How did you know you were gay?”

“Boys are hot,” McKinley tells him, because it’s simple as that. “If you’re looking for a more self-involved coming to terms with your sexuality story, I’d ask Ben. He had a lot of built up **stuff** , you know? He didn’t really understand himself. I’ve known I liked boys my entire life.”

“Really?” Victor laughs. “Your whole life? Even when you were, like, a little kid, you never even tried to like girls?”

“I tried, at one point,” McKinley admits. “I tried to date a girl when I was, like, fourteen, because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. Y’know, as a guy. But I always knew I liked boys.”

Victor just says, “Oh.” Then, “Okay,” and it’s the end of the conversation.

 

+

 

McKinley is **not** a nervous person. He doesn’t get nervous. He’s quickly coming up on seventeen and most of camp knows that he and Ben are an item -- it’s a wonder that JJ and Gary haven’t figured it out yet. His magazine with a full spread of Freddie Mercury got soaked when Ben found out about it and laughed so hard that water came out of his nose, so McKinley had to throw it out. It’s since been replaced with a picture that Susie took of he and Ben making out by the river in the woods.

 **Ben** makes McKinley nervous. Ben makes McKinley so nervous that he can’t focus on his favorite movie, only Ben’s form pressed up against him and the ring box sitting in a drawer in the bathroom and his own heartbeat.

McKinley was thirteen when Animal House came out, and he knows he probably shouldn’t have been watching it, but he was a weird kid who really loved National Lampoon (and had an obsession with Michael O’Donoghue that probably should have concerned his parents) and really, he just had a huge crush on Tom Hulce. That was a good bit of the draw towards Animal House.

Tom Hulce doesn’t hold a candle to Ben, McKinley decides, as Ben’s giggle reaches his ears.

 

_“They took the bar! The whole fucking bar!”_

 

Ben bites back another laugh, face red and tears in his eyes. He buries his face in McKinley’s chest and mumbles, “I forgot how funny this is.”

McKinley laughs and kisses the top of Ben’s head.

“I need you to let me get up,” He mutters. “I gotta go to the bathroom.”

Ben sits up, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “You want me to pause it?”

“It’s fine,” McKinley promises. “I’ve seen it enough times. I could recite the script in my sleep. I’ll be right back.”

McKinley has to make a conscious effort not to slam the bathroom door behind himself. He presses his back to it and tries to even his breathing out, because fuck, fuck, **fuck.**

Ben’s laughter from the other room helps him calm down. He leans over the sink, splashes his face with some water, and stares himself down in the mirror.

“Don’t be an idiot,” McKinley tells himself. “Don’t overthink it. Ben loves you. Who cares if you’re only sixteen? You guys love each other. Okay? You love Ben. He loves you. He’s gonna say yes, he’s gonna-- Of course he’ll say yes. You’re the best.”

He laughs, but it gets lost somewhere in his throat. His palms are clammy when he pulls the ring box out from the drawer.

Ben’s still giggling when he leaves the bathroom, and he shuts the light off. There’s a candle burning on the bedside table, to keep McKinley’s head clear.

“Ben?” He says softly. “Baby, can you pause the movie for a second?”

Ben stifles a soft laugh and moves to pause the movie. “Hm?” He glances. “What’s up?”

McKinley takes a shaky breath, blinking away nervous tears. Ben’s face goes from happy to concerned in half a second. He stands up quickly, taking steps to make sure McKinley’s okay -- he stands up, studies his face, looks for something that might be wrong.

“Uh,” McKinley manages. He takes a step backwards, to make some room. “Ben. Ben. Ben, Ben, Ben.” He laughs nervously. “I really love you. Okay?”

Ben blinks. “You-- I love you too. Like, a lot.” He laughs, sounding just as nervous as McKinley feels. “You’re not breaking up with me, are you? Because I don’t know if--”

“-- No!” McKinley practically shouts. “No, no, fuck no, Ben.” He runs his free hand through his hair. “I know that we’ve, like, only been dating for a few weeks. Five and a half weeks. But these, uh, these five and a half weeks… God, I wish I knew where I was going with this. I mean, I kind of do, but I should have prepared something, I was just too busy with other stuff, and I--” He laughs. “Fuck. Ben, I never saw myself settling down with anyone. Like, ever. Period. I didn’t think that I was that kind of guy. But I knew, uh, that day after you first spent the night in here, and you told me that you didn’t want to stare at anything that wasn’t **me** , I knew that you were the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

“McKinley…” Ben looks like he’s about to cry.

“Let me finish.” McKinley wipes his eyes quickly, as if wiping away the tears will make it so that they were never there, that he isn’t so nervous that he’s crying because McKinley **does not cry.** “I’m not a sap. You know I’m not a sap. If you tell anyone I cried, I’ll kill you.”

“I won’t,” Ben promises with a strangled laugh.

“So, uh…” McKinley draws away a little more, He’s shaking as he gets down on one knee, it’s so hard for him to find his balance. Ben is covering his mouth like a dork. He flips open the box to reveal the ring Susie helped him pick out -- the same shade of bronze as Ben’s hair with a single yellow stone. “Marry me?”

Ben laughs in disbelief, mouth opening and closing like a fish. There’s a silence, and for a second McKinley thinks that Ben might be too overwhelmed, and he wants to get up and hug him but he’s frozen in place, waiting for an answer, and the suspense is killing him.

“Yes,” Ben finally says, voice quiet like he’s just learning how to speak. “Yes, yes, yes.” He holds his hands out and McKinley almost falls over trying to stand up and get that ring on Ben’s finger as quickly as possible because **fuck** Ben is **his,** that’s **his** fiancé, and he’s crying and Ben is crying and nothing tastes as good as Ben’s lips on his.

 

When they go to breakfast the next morning, Victor points out, “That’s the finger that engagement rings go on,” with a jokey smile.

Ben glances up at him and says, “Oh, is it? I didn’t notice.”

McKinley’s fingers find his free hand under the table and curl around it. Ben gives his hand a squeeze as Victor’s eyes drop to his plate.

 **‘Yeah** ,’ McKinley thinks, ‘ **that’s my fiancé.’**


End file.
